


Marks on the Skin

by raktajinos



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Medical Procedures, Scars, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 07:09:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raktajinos/pseuds/raktajinos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harold reflects about John's array of tattoos. </p><p>(can be read as gen or shippy, your preference)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> written for [smallfandomfest](http://smallfandomfest.livejournal.com/) at livejournal for the prompt "Person of Interest, Finch + Reese, tattoos"
> 
> This was originally a one shot, but I realized (thanks to feedback!!) that I actually had more to tell, so now it's being expanded to 3 chapters. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> (unbeta'd)

The nature of their work, well more accurately of John's work, resulted in John coming home with more than a few bullets in him or deep knife wounds. They couldn't very well take him to a hospital, so Harold found himself learning a crash course in field medicine as it was often left to him to repair the damage. 

The countless times he'd been forced to play medic, fishing out bullet fragments from deep in John's body, he'd gotten quite a good look at his partner's body. At first he was distracted by the sheer physicality of the man, the way the muscles moved with deadly precision under the skin. 

But it was his skin that was the most alluring; John was covered in tattoos - a detail that had both shocked Harold and not surprised him in the slightest. The man only seemed to wear suits, tightly buttoned and everything about him oosed restraint. So it was with some surprise to see such a carefully structured man covered with more than a dozen tattoos. 

But in the same breath, it wasn't surprising. He was a soldier, a mercenary, a man who had no home or history. It made sense, in an odd, visceral way that John would choose his skin as a record of his past. Every tattoo a deliberate choice of a memory he wished to preserve, every scar a memory recorded by force. 

His skin was marred with scars; some new, many old. Harold probably knew more collective knowledge about John than anyone in existence, except perhaps the Machine. But even with all his knowledge, the man was still an enigma. 

His skin was a map of that enigma. Harold had no idea where John got his tattoos or his scars. He could make educated guesses based on the knowledge he had of John's actions over the past thirty years, but it would just be conjecture. 

There had to be people who knew of the origins of these marks, who were with him when they happened, or _for_ whom they were enacted on his body. If they'd combined their knowledge, if Harold could collect the stories and information from all these people, then collectively he'd have a better understanding of the man he spent his every waking moment with. 

But as it was, John was tightlipped about his past; something they had in common, and it was unlikely he'd ever get any specific answers. Harold wasn't one for imagination, but sometimes, when John would be laying out on the ad-hock operating table unconscious, he'd try and imagine where he'd gotten them - scars and tattoos alike.


	2. Tattoos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I realized it wasn't done so here's more!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I'm not sure about the canonical support for the placement of John's tattoos. I probably could have gone through screencaps - but dang that's a lot of work. We know his arms are clean (unless he uses makeup to cover them up), but other than that, I just went with it 
> 
> :D
> 
> If anyone does know this info, don't hesitate to tell me.

There was one on his hip, an oddly erotic place for a tattoo Harold had thought, but it was an area that was easily covered up so John probably got it as a younger man. It was Western inspired, a horse and a bear entangled together, not fighting, but not friendly either; more like two strong, aggressive animals taking stock of each other, sizing the other up. 

Harold imagined it represented John, how he felt at the time when he was trying to figure out who he was as a man. He likely got it just before he entered the military, or shortly after; those experiences forcing a man to reconcile his passive and agressive sides, to decide what kind of man he was going to be, how he would channel his energy, whether he'd become leader or follower. 

There was another one, a larger one, that started on his back and spread under his right shoulder and came down the side of his torso, spreading slightly onto his chest. It wasn't oppressive in its size, and the design was rather delicate. Harold didn't have any tattoos himself, but he knew that a piece this large took multiple appointments. He wondered if the same artist did the entire work, and if so how long did it take? With John's constant travel around the world, how did he manage to make and keep appointments with a single artist? And how did he keep his identity secret? Surely spending the dozens, if not hundreds, of hours with one person it would have constituted a security breach. Maybe John had the artist killed after...or did it himself. Harold knew exactly what kind of man he was involving himself with when he signed up with John. 

More likely than not it was done by multiple artists, scattered all over the world, whenever John had a few days or hours to spare. Did it take him a decade to get the piece finally done? It was at once both a complex design, yet also simplistic. It didn't have the characteristic intricacy that most large pieces did, with many images joining to become a large mosaic; but nor was it one single image. It sprawled, having a sense of movement from the chest to the back, creating the illusion of openness. Which struck Harold as odd, the other direction of back-to-front movement would have given the illusion of closing in on oneself, of protection, of secrecy, of John. This large tapestry was in direct contradiction to everything about the man. Then there was the actual images in the design which was again odd as it was mostly flowers. Not the fragile, romantic flowers one would see on a greeting card, but instead a smattering of wild flowers with unruly petals and stems. They swirled in and amongst each other, making shapes and knots; it was beautiful but also incredibly sad. There was a melancholy that came over Harold whenever he looked at this tattoo, the colour scheme of dull yellows and browns and the lack of life in the movement of the flowers. If he could ask John about one tattoo, it would be this one. But this one was probably the one he was least likely to want to talk about. 

Harold had counted fifteen seperate tattooes on John, all of various shapes, sizes and ages. He'd gotten one recently, Harold knew because he caught John trying not to scratch at it one weekend and then he saw how bright and fresh the colours were. It was Harold's favourite, not that he'd ever share that thought out loud; and he liked to think it was about him, about the work they did together. Right there on his left forearm was a tiny tattoo of an abacus; the ancient mathmatical device one of the first 'computers' ever invented. Harold wanted to believe John put it on his skin as a symbol, as a reminder, of all the numbers they dealt with, of all the people they saved, of their relationship with the Machine and with each other. He knew it might mean something entirely different, but for now, Harold was content to keep on believing this.


End file.
